YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE...MAYBE TWICE!
Secret War Against the Darkness that Seeks to Consume Mankind
Information
There are a few of us that know of a Dark God that seeks to breathe his corruption into our dead, which will then consume the flesh and souls of the living. Join the movement to stop this from happening!
Location: The dark corners of the Earth
Members: 182
Latest Activity: Mar 3, 2021
About the Secret War
I first encountered Baphomet’s undead minions when I was just a kid growing up in Brooklyn, New York during the late 80s. My friends and I loved playing in abandoned buildings. We fancied ourselves urban explorers.
One autumn day we were playing man hunt, which is just a tough name for hide and seek. There were five of us and everyone’s hiding place had been discovered, except for Ismael’s. After an exhaustive search of the derelict brownstone we were in, the only place no one had searched was the basement. After a quick contest of “Odds and Evens” I got stuck with the duty of going down there to look for Ismael. With my unwelcomed task at hand I really wished I hadn’t seen Evil Dead 2 the week before. I could still hear the evil dead creature in the movie saying, “Someone's in my fruit cellar, someone with a fresh soooul!” I shook the dreadful memory of that movie out of my head.
Armed with only a lighter I descended the creaking dilapidated staircase. The air was thick with rot and decay causing me to breathe through my mouth. I figured an animal had made its way down into the basement and died. I was glad that a bit of sunlight, which came in through the brownstone’s busted windows, found its way to the basement doorway lighting my way down. The graffiti strewn walls actually brought me a bit of solace in knowing Ismael and I weren’t the only kids stupid enough to climb down into the cellar of this vacant building. When I got to the bottom of the staircase I looked up to my friends. Silhouetted by the daylight at their backs they seemed so distant.
“Hurry up chicken shit,” Luis yelled down.
“Just letting my eyes adjust to the dark asshole,” I yelled back. Although partly true, I was also very hesitant about stepping out of the sunlight that made its way to the cracked and pitted concrete at the base of the stairs.
Remembering the lighter I flicked it to produce a frail flame which made the surrounding darkness recede just enough to reveal the debris and refuse that littered the cellar. A rust covered furnace and hot water heater were revealed a few feet ahead of me. To my left was a worktable stacked with rusted paint cans, plastic and metal jugs of what I figured was turpentine and paint thinner, and bottles of spray paint. Scattered throughout the rest of the cellar were moldering cardboard boxes, stuffed to overflowing with old newspapers, magazines, and other garbage.
Not wanting to venture any further I yelled, “Hey Ismael the games over, come on out you crazy bastard, you won.” I was answered by a loud clank from behind the furnace.
“Ismael, quit fucking with me, your not scaring anyone, come on out,” I managed to say as I ignored the voice in my head that screamed for me to bolt up the stairs out of the cellar. I knew what would happen though. My friends, including Ismael, would all laugh at me for being a pussy.
Determined not to let Ismael make me look like a punk in front of the other guys I charged behind the furnace with the lighter held out in front of me. “Games over Ismael you…” was all I could say before my eyes could make out what was taking place behind that furnace and my mind could comprehend the horror. Ismael was behind the furnace, but he wasn’t alone. Squatting over him, with his glistening entrails clenched between gnarled clawed hands and cracked teeth were two gaunt walking corpses. Pus white eyes looked up at me, and from their gore and blood caked mouths they issued one word, Baphomet. They then stood up causing me to back peddle in panic careening into something hard that smashed into the base of my back. As I fell my lighter slipped from my grasp, and darkness hungrily enveloped me. Cans and boxes fell all around me as I prayed the fiends would have as much trouble as I did seeing in the gloom of the basement, but I somehow knew that was not the case. As slow as they were the sound of their shuffling feet steadily grew closer. Looking toward the rays of light that descended the stairs into the basement I saw not only my escape, but also the lighter. As undead hands reached towards me out of the darkness I flung myself in the direction of the stairs. Gripping the lighter in my left hand, I grabbed a hold of one of the legs of the worktable with my right, and pulled with all my might. The worktable tipped over sending paint cans and containers crashing to the ground between me and the shambling horrors that killed my friend, and sought to devour me. I flicked the lighter and as it produced its flame I saw its twin reflected in a spreading puddle issuing from the containers and cans that had crashed to the ground. Instinctively I joined the flame of the lighter with its twin in the puddle, and the two gave birth to a conflagration which caused the darkness in that basement to retreat. I was quickly overcome with terror, however, as the two ghouls shambled through the burgeoning blaze as if it were but a mere inconvenience. I screamed as hands grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and pulled. I realized though that I was being pulled up the stairs, and the hands belonged to my friends. Once at the top of the stairs we closed the door to the basement, and haphazardly barricaded it with anything we could find before the smoke became too much for us to bear. We ran out of the brownstone and cleared out before the fire department showed up to put out the blaze.
When they searched the rubble they found the remains of three people. They figured that two of the bodies were homeless people, and they later identified the third body as Ismael. Ismael ended up getting blamed for starting the fire and to this day I feel guilty my friends and I didn’t tell the grownups the truth. But now we’re the grownups and we know the truth. We know the living dead exist, and we know something named Baphomet is behind it. We’ve since taken matters into our own hands.
Horrible actions and events are reported daily in the news, and we’ve unfortunately become so accepting and desensitized to the violence in our world that we refuse to acknowledge the signs that humanity is succumbing to the dark machinations of an evil older than time itself! Some think it’s the Devil, but it’s older than Lucifer, and according to some ancient text the Vatican has hidden away it is even credited on occasion with Lucifer’s corruption and fall from grace. Over the course of my research since my first brush with the undead I have come to view this greater evil as an Anti-God which brings death and corruption instead of life and purity. Although history has confused the Anti-God with the host of the fallen angels my research has discerned that the title of Baphomet is perhaps the most accurate label that can be placed upon this Necro Domine, or Death Lord. Although there have always been Death Cults in service of Baphomet it has always preferred the services of minions culled from the ranks of our dead. As Baphomet’s influence in our world has increased it has been able to breathe anti-life into our dead in alarmingly greater numbers. It is from Baphomet’s undead that our legends of antiquity, such as ghouls, ghosts, and vampires come from. Unfortunately, many of the living also are susceptible to Baphomet’s influence, and some madmen even become aware and secretly worship Baphomet when he blesses them in their dreams for the acts of desecration they have committed upon their fellow man. I fear Baphomet’s influence is increasing as I’ve encountered more of his living as well as his undead followers. I can’t do it myself though. So anyone out there who is willing to patrol their little section of the world, keeping their eyes and ears open for signs of Baphomet’s blasphemous corruptions, please use this forum to keep others apprised of your discoveries. If you are willing to take direct action please be careful, and above all be prepared. Be aware that by getting involved you might put those you care for in danger, however, I think all of mankind is already perilously close to a rude awakening to the dark machinations that take place in the dark corners of our world.
One autumn day we were playing man hunt, which is just a tough name for hide and seek. There were five of us and everyone’s hiding place had been discovered, except for Ismael’s. After an exhaustive search of the derelict brownstone we were in, the only place no one had searched was the basement. After a quick contest of “Odds and Evens” I got stuck with the duty of going down there to look for Ismael. With my unwelcomed task at hand I really wished I hadn’t seen Evil Dead 2 the week before. I could still hear the evil dead creature in the movie saying, “Someone's in my fruit cellar, someone with a fresh soooul!” I shook the dreadful memory of that movie out of my head.
Armed with only a lighter I descended the creaking dilapidated staircase. The air was thick with rot and decay causing me to breathe through my mouth. I figured an animal had made its way down into the basement and died. I was glad that a bit of sunlight, which came in through the brownstone’s busted windows, found its way to the basement doorway lighting my way down. The graffiti strewn walls actually brought me a bit of solace in knowing Ismael and I weren’t the only kids stupid enough to climb down into the cellar of this vacant building. When I got to the bottom of the staircase I looked up to my friends. Silhouetted by the daylight at their backs they seemed so distant.
“Hurry up chicken shit,” Luis yelled down.
“Just letting my eyes adjust to the dark asshole,” I yelled back. Although partly true, I was also very hesitant about stepping out of the sunlight that made its way to the cracked and pitted concrete at the base of the stairs.
Remembering the lighter I flicked it to produce a frail flame which made the surrounding darkness recede just enough to reveal the debris and refuse that littered the cellar. A rust covered furnace and hot water heater were revealed a few feet ahead of me. To my left was a worktable stacked with rusted paint cans, plastic and metal jugs of what I figured was turpentine and paint thinner, and bottles of spray paint. Scattered throughout the rest of the cellar were moldering cardboard boxes, stuffed to overflowing with old newspapers, magazines, and other garbage.
Not wanting to venture any further I yelled, “Hey Ismael the games over, come on out you crazy bastard, you won.” I was answered by a loud clank from behind the furnace.
“Ismael, quit fucking with me, your not scaring anyone, come on out,” I managed to say as I ignored the voice in my head that screamed for me to bolt up the stairs out of the cellar. I knew what would happen though. My friends, including Ismael, would all laugh at me for being a pussy.
Determined not to let Ismael make me look like a punk in front of the other guys I charged behind the furnace with the lighter held out in front of me. “Games over Ismael you…” was all I could say before my eyes could make out what was taking place behind that furnace and my mind could comprehend the horror. Ismael was behind the furnace, but he wasn’t alone. Squatting over him, with his glistening entrails clenched between gnarled clawed hands and cracked teeth were two gaunt walking corpses. Pus white eyes looked up at me, and from their gore and blood caked mouths they issued one word, Baphomet. They then stood up causing me to back peddle in panic careening into something hard that smashed into the base of my back. As I fell my lighter slipped from my grasp, and darkness hungrily enveloped me. Cans and boxes fell all around me as I prayed the fiends would have as much trouble as I did seeing in the gloom of the basement, but I somehow knew that was not the case. As slow as they were the sound of their shuffling feet steadily grew closer. Looking toward the rays of light that descended the stairs into the basement I saw not only my escape, but also the lighter. As undead hands reached towards me out of the darkness I flung myself in the direction of the stairs. Gripping the lighter in my left hand, I grabbed a hold of one of the legs of the worktable with my right, and pulled with all my might. The worktable tipped over sending paint cans and containers crashing to the ground between me and the shambling horrors that killed my friend, and sought to devour me. I flicked the lighter and as it produced its flame I saw its twin reflected in a spreading puddle issuing from the containers and cans that had crashed to the ground. Instinctively I joined the flame of the lighter with its twin in the puddle, and the two gave birth to a conflagration which caused the darkness in that basement to retreat. I was quickly overcome with terror, however, as the two ghouls shambled through the burgeoning blaze as if it were but a mere inconvenience. I screamed as hands grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and pulled. I realized though that I was being pulled up the stairs, and the hands belonged to my friends. Once at the top of the stairs we closed the door to the basement, and haphazardly barricaded it with anything we could find before the smoke became too much for us to bear. We ran out of the brownstone and cleared out before the fire department showed up to put out the blaze.
When they searched the rubble they found the remains of three people. They figured that two of the bodies were homeless people, and they later identified the third body as Ismael. Ismael ended up getting blamed for starting the fire and to this day I feel guilty my friends and I didn’t tell the grownups the truth. But now we’re the grownups and we know the truth. We know the living dead exist, and we know something named Baphomet is behind it. We’ve since taken matters into our own hands.
Horrible actions and events are reported daily in the news, and we’ve unfortunately become so accepting and desensitized to the violence in our world that we refuse to acknowledge the signs that humanity is succumbing to the dark machinations of an evil older than time itself! Some think it’s the Devil, but it’s older than Lucifer, and according to some ancient text the Vatican has hidden away it is even credited on occasion with Lucifer’s corruption and fall from grace. Over the course of my research since my first brush with the undead I have come to view this greater evil as an Anti-God which brings death and corruption instead of life and purity. Although history has confused the Anti-God with the host of the fallen angels my research has discerned that the title of Baphomet is perhaps the most accurate label that can be placed upon this Necro Domine, or Death Lord. Although there have always been Death Cults in service of Baphomet it has always preferred the services of minions culled from the ranks of our dead. As Baphomet’s influence in our world has increased it has been able to breathe anti-life into our dead in alarmingly greater numbers. It is from Baphomet’s undead that our legends of antiquity, such as ghouls, ghosts, and vampires come from. Unfortunately, many of the living also are susceptible to Baphomet’s influence, and some madmen even become aware and secretly worship Baphomet when he blesses them in their dreams for the acts of desecration they have committed upon their fellow man. I fear Baphomet’s influence is increasing as I’ve encountered more of his living as well as his undead followers. I can’t do it myself though. So anyone out there who is willing to patrol their little section of the world, keeping their eyes and ears open for signs of Baphomet’s blasphemous corruptions, please use this forum to keep others apprised of your discoveries. If you are willing to take direct action please be careful, and above all be prepared. Be aware that by getting involved you might put those you care for in danger, however, I think all of mankind is already perilously close to a rude awakening to the dark machinations that take place in the dark corners of our world.
Discussion Forum
Things that go "BUMP" in the night! 16 Replies
Started by The Dread Pirate Boodrow. Last reply by Komrad Venessa Wicked☭ Mar 3, 2021.
Is there no common sense in the world anymore????? 6 Replies
Started by The Dread Pirate Boodrow. Last reply by Oriel Nov 24, 2020.
Thing that go bump in the NIGHT!!!! Part 2 8 Replies
Started by The Dread Pirate Boodrow. Last reply by Komrad Scarlet Zombie☭ Mar 1, 2011.
Comment Wall
Comment
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Comment by The Dread Pirate Boodrow on November 24, 2009 at 5:50pm
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We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and the oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.
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Comment by ZeRo on November 21, 2009 at 11:01pm
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After many months I have returned..........my leaving as been all but bad.........They are still out there They are killing Our generation..........We must take a stand and FIGHT TILL WE REACH THE GRAVE!!!!!!!!!URA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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YO! As I stomp through the valley of death, I will fear no evil.
For I am the meanest and nastiest S.O.B. in the World!
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Comment by Hex on June 27, 2009 at 4:43am
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Advocates of permanent death I bring you greetings from a location in Connecticut, which I will not disclose for obvious reasons. After making sure Komrad Vanessa was released from her unjust incarceration a few weeks ago I met with a Dr. Ramon Tirado, a prominent professor of Sociology at Yale specializing in the study of the practices, social structures, historical background and roles of religion in society. Some of you who travel in academic circles might have heard of him from his research and writings on fringe religions. My life mission to bring an end to the blasphemies of the unholy blessings of Baphomet have led me to meet with those who might have knowledge that can help us bring about an end to our secret war against the darkness that wishes to consume the souls of the living.
I had read of Dr. Tirado’s plight in an article buried in the New York Post a few weeks ago and convinced him to meet with me in hopes his experiences could shed light on Baphomet.
While in New York with his fiancée, Dr. Tirado had learned of and jumped at an extremely rare opportunity to observe a post death ceremony being performed by a priest, or Pai-de-santo, of an off shoot religion similar to Las Reglas de Congo, and other religions that find their genesis in blends of Christianity and far older religions. This ceremony was being performed in a derelict church in Manhattan.
What Tirado and his fiancée witnessed taking place on a filthy candle illuminated pulpit frayed their nerves and challenged their academic based views of evil. As the Pai-de-santo stood over the two day dead corpse of a woman, he roared a mantra in an ancient tongue, which even Tirado’s considerable knowledge of dead languages could not discern. As the screams produced by the exorcism reverberated from the dark corners of the church, Tirado felt an angst saturated despair creep into the core of his very soul. As flames danced atop ceremonial candles, Tirado’s peripherals momentarily glimpsed what looked like gossamer visages fabricating themselves from the darkest shadows of battered church pews. Suddenly the dead woman on the pulpit began to convulse before screaming, “Baphomet!” Understandably Tirado’s fiancée Karen was greatly disturbed by this and asked him to lead her away from the desecrated church, which in her mind had been annexed by Hell itself.
Although the couple soon after returned to New Haven, Connecticut they could not escape the feeling that they had been spiritually scarred as a result of being in the presence of true evil. Unbeknownst to Tirado, as he sought solace in his academic writings, Karen was driven to the edge of madness as voices from the shadows of her soul enticed her to revel in the blood of her beloved in order to attain eternal life within death. One night she found herself over Tirado as he slept with a butcher knife clenched in her hands, fantasizing about the warmth of his bowels draped across her naked form. A moment of clarity brought her to the horrific realization that she deeply desired to extinguish the life of the man she loved. Making her way lithely out of the bedroom she feared to even take one last glimpse at the man she loved. Once in the bathroom she scrawled a final letter to her beloved laying bare her struggles with the growing darkness within her soul. She also scrawled one last message on the medicine cabinet mirror. When Tirado awoke the following morning from an unusually deep sleep he found the apartment to be unusually quiet. Every morning Karen turned on the morning news as she prepared breakfast before they drove to the university together. Tirado got up and made his way to the bathroom where he found his plans for the rest of his life slumped next to the sink in a pool of dark congealing blood. Above the sink on the medicine cabinet mirror, scrawled in cherry red lipstick, was the message, “I do this because I love you.”
The suicide letter Karen left for Tirado cleared him of any wrong doing but he found it difficult not to blame himself for her death. To make his ordeal even worse he received a police officer arrived at his home to inform him that Karen’s body had been stolen from the morgue soon after it arrived. The police theorized it had taken to be sold on the organ black market, but we know better.
I’d like to say things turned out okay for Dr. Tirado, but as of this writing he has also disappeared. No need for me to tell you what has probably happened. In any case let this be a precautionary tale to the seductive corruption of Baphomet. Take care warriors.
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Comment by manbo on June 7, 2009 at 1:29am
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Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me
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Comment by veiropia on June 5, 2009 at 12:35am
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Wake me in the silence of the night and I will be your giude to the deeps depts of this world.Bring your soul and Ill promise to give you a night filled with joy and serenity.
Bring a friend and the night will go on amongs us as the best time you have ever had.
to put a twist on things you will neva have to regret that night because as a bonus your memory will fade and no longer can your consions bother you.
Above is the words of a dark one as it can lur you to it just by the sure kunning of your own mind.
Be aware my friends of "promises" made in the heat of a situation as there is always a catch involved.
In love and light daer souls may you not be caught up this world of merrery amd self inflicted pain
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Comment by katie.x on May 28, 2009 at 10:15am
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WOO!! these here are some mighty fine pics!!!
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Comment by Wolfgang on May 27, 2009 at 4:23am
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I have been in cabin in the woods. A victim of a sort of mind wipe. Out of my head not myself. There were others here before but now just me. I recognize my voice and remember the struggle. I think i've been compromised. My mind is coming back to me, The Wicked one, My Komradz. The Purpose, It's clear now. But, What help could a traitor be? So maybe instead, Just a few more days of peace...... FUCK ME!!!!!!!
I was coming back from getting water at the stream. When instantly i was flung to the ground by the shock wave of a massive explosion and overwhelmed by fire. I new at once the cabin was gone as was my break in the madness.
This was like no fire I have ever experienced. Their was a thirst in the flames. As if driven by something.
Made it threw the tree line in the nick of time, fire at my heels.
I escaped the fire, and have retreated to a secondary location.
Alone in the dark now but i'm still in one piece.
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